| The afternoons of Buenos Aires have that what do I know, did you see?
|
| I leave home through Arenales, the usual on the street and in my…
|
| When, suddenly, behind a tree, the
|
| Rare mix of penultimate linyera
|
| And the first cop on the trip to Venus
|
| Half a melon on the head
|
| The stripes of the shirt painted on the skin
|
| Two half soles nailed to the feet
|
| And a free taxi flag raised in each hand
|
| It seems that only I see it
|
| Because he walks through the crowd and the mannequins wink at him
|
| Traffic lights give you three light blue lights
|
| And the oranges from the greengrocer on the corner
|
| They throw orange blossoms at him
|
| And so, half dancing and half flying
|
| He takes out the melon, greets me
|
| He gave me a little flag and he tells me:
|
| (Sung)
|
| I know I'm piantao, piantao, piantao...
|
| Can't you see that the moon is rolling around Callao
|
| That a parade of astronauts and children, with a waltz
|
| He dances around me… Dance! |
| Come! |
| Fly!
|
| I know I'm piantao, piantao, piantao...
|
| I look at Buenos Aires from the nest of a sparrow
|
| And I saw you so sad... Come! |
| Fly! |
| I felt…
|
| The crazy berretín that I have for you
|
| Mad! |
| Mad! |
| Mad!
|
| When night falls in your porteña loneliness
|
| By the edge of your sheet I will come
|
| With a poem and a trombone
|
| to reveal your heart
|
| Mad! |
| Mad! |
| Mad!
|
| Like a crazy acrobat I will jump
|
| Over the abyss of your neckline until you feel
|
| That I drove your heart crazy with freedom...
|
| You'll see!
|
| (Recitation)
|
| And so saying, the crazy man invites me
|
| To walk in his illusion of him super-sport
|
| And we'll run off the ledges
|
| with a swallow in the engine!
|
| De Vieytes applauds us: «Long live! |
| Live!"
|
| The crazy people who invented love
|
| And an angel and a soldier and a girl
|
| They give us a dancing waltz
|
| The beautiful people come out to greet us...
|
| And crazy, but yours, what do I know!:
|
| He provokes bell towers with his laughter
|
| And finally, he looks at me, and sings in a low voice:
|
| (Sung)
|
| Love me like this, piantao, piantao, piantao...
|
| Climb on this crazy tenderness that is in me
|
| Put on this lark wig, and fly!
|
| Fly with me now! |
| Come, fly, come!
|
| Love me like this, piantao, piantao, piantao...
|
| Open the loves that we are going to try
|
| The magical total madness of reviving...
|
| Come, fly, come! |
| Trai-lai-la-larará!
|
| (Shouted out)
|
| Live! |
| Live! |
| Live!
|
| He's crazy and I'm crazy...
|
| Crazy! |
| Crazy! |
| Crazy!
|
| Crazy him and crazy me |